"No. He's doing it now. Special favour to me in light of all the attention."
Cooper's eyebrows raised. "That's good. He find anything yet?"
"Not that I know of. Just started. Meg Baxter's supervising. You might give her a call."
"Yeah, I might. Thanks, Sarge. Anything else?"
"Yeah. I looked up Lord Howe online. Bloody island paradise I've sent you to. Don't enjoy yourself too much."
Cooper smiled as he ended the call.
"What?" asked Quinn, when he arrived back at their table.
"Garrett's doing the autopsy now." He looked up to see their food on its way. "I'll give Meg a call as soon as we're done here."
They ate quickly. The food was enjoyable, but they weren't there for a fancy meal. They had a job to do, and Cooper was keen to get on with it.
Quinn went to the bar to order a last drink for them both, while Cooper went back to the phones and called Meg. She answered on the second ring.
"How's the high life?" she asked.
"Island paradise," said Cooper, smiling as he quoted Munro. "How's the morgue?"
"Smells like death."
"Same as always, then. Can you tell us anything yet?"
"I can. Not sure you want to hear it, though."
Cooper closed his eyes and lowered his voice. "Murder?" he asked.
"Murder," she answered.
5
Cooper joined Quinn, who'd moved to an outside table to avoid the increasing stares and eavesdroppers from inside. He looked longingly at the fresh beer he was now unable to drink.
"You've got that look, boss."
"Yeah, sorry, Joe. We're going to have to head back to the house in a minute."
"Got an update?"
Cooper nodded, looked around to make sure he wasn't overheard then leaned forward. "Garrett says there's clear evidence Zara King was suffocated. We need to go back and bag pillows, cushions, anything that could have been used. He also says there's no defensive wounds, no skin under the fingernails, so he's running toxicology to see if she was sedated by anything."
"Shall I call Garry, get him to take us back out there?"
"Nah. It didn't look far, maybe a ten minute walk. We'll need to spend the night. I'll call Munro back on our way out, see when we can get a tech over here. Then we'll head to the house. You need anything from your room?"
Quinn shook his head and they both walked to reception so Cooper could call Munro. The conversation was short. The charter plane that had delivered Zara's body to the morgue was heading back to the island at first light, and both Zach Ryan and Nora Reynolds would be on it. That was the first bit of good news they'd had since the body was discovered. Zach and Nora were two of the best. He was only expecting one technical officer, with all the budget cuts Munro had been going on about recently, so to get both of them was a bonus. High profile cases did have some benefits.
Cooper relayed the good news to Quinn as they left the resort and made their way on foot back to the purpose-built six-bedroom house.
"So we have to babysit the house and its remaining occupants until the techs get here?" asked Quinn.
"Yes. There's only Garry on the island, no other uniforms to do the legwork. Now that we know Zara King was murdered, we need to do everything by the book. We'll have plenty of eyes on us by tomorrow."
The house looked different in the dark. Eerie, almost. Cooper felt a chill despite the warm weather. There were lights on in the living room, sheer curtains revealing the outlines of four figures seated on the lounge. Quinn knocked on the door. The figures all looked at each other when they heard the knock, and after a moment Cooper recognised Martha's shape as she pushed herself up.
"Back so soon?" asked Martha, opening the door wide for them.
"We need to follow up in Zara's room," said Cooper, all business. He remained standing in the foyer while Quinn made his way into the living area. "Has anyone been in there since we left?" Four heads shook. "What about Jerome. Where is he?"
"Went to bed, said he wasn't feeling well," said Ivy. "Do you want me to go get him?" As she said it a grey pallor came over her face, and Cooper figured she must have been reminded of what happened the last time she volunteered to go look for someone.
"No, that's okay. We'll catch him tomorrow. Can the rest of you stay here while we look upstairs again?"
Four nods this time.
Quinn was fishing around in the kitchen. Cooper signalled to him, and he pulled something from a drawer and followed his partner upstairs.
"What were you doing?" asked Cooper. Quinn held up a packet of garbage bags and a roll of packing tape in response.
"Didn't think you'd have any crime scene tape in your pocket."
Cooper smiled. "You thought right." He fished around in his pockets and pulled out the gloves he'd thought to bring, but crime scene tape was not part of his usual arsenal. He opened the door to Zara's room, and was surprised to see Jerome sitting on her bed. He looked startled at the interruption, and Cooper could see he'd been crying.
"What are you doing in here?" asked Quinn.
"I… I can't believe she's gone. We've spent every day together for two months. Just last night we were talking about going home next week. And now…"
Cooper gently took him by the arm and led him out of the room. Quinn knew what needed doing in there, so he left him to it. He guided Jerome to a stiff-looking chair on the landing and sat him down, taking the other seat himself. It was surprisingly soft.
"Jerome, can you tell me what you were doing in Zara's room?" he asked gently.
"I was just trying to say goodbye." More tears came. "I'm sorry, I didn't know I wasn't supposed to go in there. You didn't say we couldn't."
Jerome was right, that had been an oversight earlier on Cooper's part. He couldn't even blame jet lag, it was only a two-hour flight. With a case like this they should have kept the room clear even before Zara's cause of death had been determined. Usually there were other people around, crime scene techs, uniforms, to organise such things. This case was going to be different in more ways than he'd imagined.
"You're right," Cooper said to Jerome. "We didn't ask you to stay out of the room. I have to ask you that now, though. Okay?"
Jerome nodded. "Can I go? I'm not feeling very well."
"Sure." Cooper watched the young man retreat to a room just down the hall. He joined Quinn in Zara's room. "Anything?"
Quinn had two garbage bags full at his feet. "A lot of cushions. I've bagged them all, plus the pillows from both beds."
"Good. Anything else in the room that could have been used to suffocate her?"
"Not that I can see, boss. I don't get it. Why would someone want to kill a contestant on a reality show? They've got to know there are cameras everywhere."
"Not up here, according to Maeve Singer," said Cooper.
"No, not up here. But this woman's every move has been filmed and scrutinised over the past two months. If someone wanted her dead, why do it here? And now? They were due to go home next week. Why not wait until then?"
Cooper's head tilted. "You think it might have been an Islander?"
Quinn tied knots in the tops of his makeshift evidence bags. "It's one possibility."
"One of many. Leave these inside and tape the door, then meet me back downstairs. We'll have to be careful what we say down there, or anywhere in this house for that matter. There are cameras downstairs, and who knows where the microphones might be hiding."
6
Four heads swivelled on the couch to greet them as they returned downstairs.
"Is Jerome okay?" asked Martha. "Sorry, I heard his voice."
"He's upset," Cooper replied. "Also said he wasn't feeling well. He's gone to bed."
Martha nodded. There was a tense silence for a few moments while the detectives and the contestants sized each other up. It was going to be a long night.
"I'm going to bed too," said Ivy. She pushed herself up out of the lounge.
"Did you
take the pills the doctor gave you?" asked Martha. Ivy responded by opening her palm to reveal a foil packet. She said nothing further and took herself off up the stairs.
Dax, Martha, and Lucas remained. Cooper briefly wondered whether he should start interviewing them tonight, to save time tomorrow, but quickly canned the idea. They could wait until morning.
"So what now?" asked Lucas, as if reading Cooper's mind.
"We have a technical team coming tomorrow morning, they'll do a thorough sweep of Zara's room. Until then we need to stay here."
"You'll be here overnight?" asked Martha.
"Yes."
"There's no spare bedroom, unless you count Zara's. I don't suppose you'll be wanting to sleep in there. I can make up the spare beds in Lucas and Dax's rooms, if you like."
Both Dax and Lucas looked suitably horrified at the idea of bunking with a detective for the night.
"That won't be necessary, thanks," said Cooper. "We'll be fine down here." He settled himself into the couch to emphasise the point. Quinn had taped up the door to the room well, if anyone felt the need to venture in there during the night they'd be able to hear the tape from downstairs.
"Well, if you're sure." Martha said goodnight, and followed Lucas and Dax up the stairs, leaving Cooper and Quinn to contemplate the night ahead babysitting a crime scene. It was years since Cooper had last done this.
"We need to start reviewing the footage from the show," said Quinn, shifting his big frame into a half-sitting, half-laying position along one side of the large, u-shaped couch.
"Agreed. And not just what went to air, either. Zach and Nora can help with that once they're done processing the room." Cooper sighed. It felt weird knowing that cameras he couldn't see were watching and recording his every move and word. Why did people voluntarily put themselves into situations like this? A million dollars was a pretty good incentive, but still, it was way more of an intrusion than he'd ever be comfortable with.
Quinn was looking around the room too, no doubt wondering where the cameras were. Cooper figured his partner was probably no more comfortable with the situation than he was.
"Why don't you get some sleep first," said Cooper. "I'll wake you in a couple of hours."
Quinn nodded, and pulled a cushion under his head. He closed his eyes and was snoring within minutes.
Cooper pulled his mobile phone out of his pocket to check messages, before remembering it didn't work out here. He shoved it back in his pocket and began to pace the room, carving out a figure-of-eight track between the kitchen and the living room. He liked to pace, it helped him think.
He wasn't looking forward to the press arriving tomorrow. According to Garry, the island had already had their fair share of paparazzi trying to get shots of the contestants in or around the house. They'd all left earlier this week, though, with the show's on-site filming winding down.
As Maeve had explained earlier today, the remaining contestants were due to go home this coming week, with filming of them in their own homes to continue for a couple of weeks after Christmas to document the completion of their transformations. The public would then vote for the contestant they believed showed the biggest life transformation, and the winner would receive the million dollar prize.
Would the show continue? Surely the murder of one of the participants would put a stop to the whole thing, wouldn't it? Who would decide that? Was it up to the police? Would Munro make that call? Probably not, the more Cooper thought about it. As long as it didn't hinder their investigation, the filming of the show had nothing to do with them.
Cooper looked around the room as he paced, but he couldn't spot any of the hidden cameras he knew were there. NSW Police weren't going to let the show's producers use any of the footage that contained himself and Quinn, he was sure of that. Still, until they'd interviewed and ruled out the crew, they needed to be careful what they said in this room.
A noise on the stairs alerted him, and he turned to find Martha on her way down. He looked at the clock, it was past midnight. He'd been pacing and thinking for more than an hour.
"Can't sleep?" he asked when she reached the bottom of the stairs.
"No. Thought I'd make a hot chocolate," she whispered. "Do you want one?"
"I'd love one, thanks. No need to whisper, it's time I woke him anyway."
"I'm awake," said Quinn, opening one eye. "I'll take one of those hot chocolates, too, please Martha."
"Have you been awake the whole time?" asked Cooper.
"More or less. Just resting my eyes. Thanks for pacing quietly."
"I took my shoes off." Cooper joined Martha in the kitchen. "Can I help?"
"I think I can handle three hot drinks," she replied. She pointed to a stool at the bench. "You can sit and talk to me while I make them, if you like."
Cooper pulled out a stool and took a seat. Pacing for over an hour had actually tired him more than he'd thought.
"What made you come on this show, Martha?" he asked. "Was it the money?"
"Oh, no. I'm never going to win, I'm more realistic than that. In fact I'm not sure why I'm still here. I'm sure the young people are a lot more popular than me."
"That's right, you have no television here, do you?" said Quinn, settling himself on the stool next to Cooper. "You have no idea how the show's being received back home."
"We only know what they tell us, which is not very much let me tell you. All I know is the show is still on air, they haven't cancelled it, which means it must be reasonably popular."
Cooper exchanged a smile with Quinn. They'd been asked by both Maeve and Kyle not to reveal to the remaining contestants anything about the show's success, or the popularity of the contestants with viewers back home. They'd agreed to honour that request in exchange for as much access to the contestants as they needed for their investigation. Not that Maeve or Kyle were in a position to deny them access, especially now they'd confirmed they were dealing with a homicide. Still, keeping people on-side as much as possible had always been a successful tactic for Cooper in the past.
"So why are you here?" Cooper asked as Martha poured milk into a jug and placed it carefully in the microwave.
"I wanted to do something different, I suppose. Raising my sons has been fantastic, don't get me wrong. I'm fortunate we were in a position where I didn't have to work for the last fifteen years. Not many families are these days. But the boys are old enough now, both in high school, they don't need me so much anymore. I'd like to go back to work, and I thought a show like this might give me the confidence to get back out there." The microwave pinged, and she turned to retrieve the jug of steaming milk. "Let's face it, if I can handle this place, I can handle anything."
"Has it been that hard?" asked Quinn.
"I wouldn't say hard. That's not the right word. I'm always up for a challenge, at least physically. I've had no trouble with that side of things. It's the mental challenge that's most difficult. No question."
She made up the drinks with half hot water and half hot milk, using mostly water in her own. She topped up Cooper's and Quinn's mugs with the remaining hot milk, and placed the sweet-smelling liquid in front of each of them.
"Thanks," they both said, like a couple of school children sitting on their stools while their mother made them an afternoon snack. Cooper had to admit, it was nice to be pampered.
"What about the mental side of things has been the most challenging?" asked Quinn, wrapping his hands around the hot mug.
"Being away from my family. I've barely ever spent one night away from them ever since I got married. This has been nine weeks. I miss them more than I could have imagined. I have a little cry about it sometimes, when I know there are no cameras watching."
Both Cooper and Quinn instinctively looked around for the cameras neither had been able to find.
Martha laughed. "You forget they're there after a while. Especially 'cause you can't see them."
"Just how intrusive do they get?" asked Cooper.
"Durin
g the day there's always a camera crew around. They alternate who they film, but they've gotten pretty good at figuring out where the drama's going to be before it even happens. I think they deliberately manipulate a lot of situations in here. It's everyday life magnified like a thousand percent. Oh, listen to me. I've been here so long I've started talking like the young ones. I've never said the word 'like' so many times in all my married life as I've said it these last couple of months."
Martha stood in the kitchen and sipped her own drink. Quinn grabbed one of the spare stools and took it around to the other side of the bench for her, and she nodded thanks as she sat.
"You must be looking forward to going home," said Cooper.
"I am. Have been since the first week. I'm still not sure whether coming on here has been a good idea or not. Time will tell, I suppose. One thing I have enjoyed, though, is being a mother-figure to all the young ones in here. They have their moments, of course, and their tantrums. I've never seen so many tantrums, my goodness. But they usually end up crying on my shoulder."
Cooper sipped his hot chocolate. It was very good. "I can see why they'd come to you," he said, and he meant it. "You're very easy to talk to."
"Years of practice."
"So you never thought about quitting these last nine weeks?" asked Quinn. "Going home to see the family, if you're sure you're not going to win the prize money?"
"Once or twice, but never seriously. It would be fine if I got voted out, but I don't think my husband or children would be very impressed if I gave up. No, it's not forever. It's been hard at times, but I'm determined to stick it out. Of course, with what's happened to Zara now, who knows what will happen next? Do you?"
Cooper shook his head. "What the producers do with the show isn't up to us. As long as they don't interfere with our investigation, we don't care whether the show goes on or not."
Martha put down her mug and leaned forward in her chair. "Speaking of your investigation, you've found something, haven't you? That's why you're back here tonight instead of tomorrow morning."
"We're not able to say," said Cooper. It sounded lame, even to him.
C&Q04,5 - Dark Paradise Page 3